text:
Takemitsu's career, like that of many a twentieth-century composer, took the form of an outward journey and an eventual homecoming. What's notable is that along the way he rediscovered his identity as a Japanese artist, having initially rejected tradition out of disgust with the hyper-nationalism of imperial Japan. Above all, he prized the concept of ma--the "powerful silence," as he defined it, which is set in relief by a single, equally powerful sound. Most of his mature works begin with a tone materializing from silence, and end with a dematerialization toward silence again.
29 January 2007
Powerful Silence, Powerful Sound
Demon Theory Week at the LBC
28 January 2007
Roving Thoughts on Apocalpyse
[Update 1/29: The second post, with reference to the movie Children of Men and to O'Hara's concept of "personism" is now available.]
(Speaking of global warming and apocalypse, as somebody points out in the comments to Kugelmass's post, Bruce Sterling has declared that the Viridian Design movement is winning.)
I fear the discussion of poetry in a world of apocalyptic climate change will devolve into the old arguments about whether writers have to be "engaged" or not, and it's a discussion I find tiresome for all sorts of different reasons, among them that it tends to lead to people advocating for writers to create propaganda, and to tedious discussions of what it means to be moral. Bleccch. On the other hand, I hope the discussion rises beyond that, because the question of how writing reflects particular realities, and how writers choose to represent their perception of the world, can be a thoughtful and valuable one.
In response to, or perhaps out of a desire for, a perceived apocalpyse of poetic expression, Kenneth Goldsmith advocates "conceptual writing" and "uncreativity". The Poetry Foundation, publishers of the venerable and generally somewhat staid Poetry magazine, made Goldsmith a blogger for a week, and the results were provocative and, I found, fascinating. I don't know if the permalink to the discussion will work later (it doesn't right now), but you can also find the posts at the front page for the blog.
I first learned of Goldsmith through Ron Silliman, and have completely mixed feelings about it all, because I'm really rather fond of the traditional old ideas of what reading is and what writing is, and yet while I ultimately reject the results of Goldsmith's ideas, I nonetheless love watching the process of coming up with them, justifying them, arguing them -- it's some of the most lively writing about writing and reading that I've encountered in quite some time. For instance, the opening paragraphs of the Thursday post at the Poetry Foundation:
What can you say to that? It's not so much Goldsmith's practice that I find so appealing (almost charming), but his way of explaining himself. The ideas aren't too far from Dada or even Gertrude Stein, but the puckish glee, the skirting and skating of irony, the embracing of the most contrary views available -- that's refreshing. So many other manifestos and movements have based themselves on an oppositional anger, trying to create generational and factional skuffles, and I don't see that as much in Goldsmith, which perhaps is why I like his proclamations and analyses so much: I don't feel compelled to accept them. In his Tuesday post on "Uncreative Writing", Goldsmith says:
I am the most boring writer that has ever lived. If there were an Olympic sport for extreme boredom, I would get a gold medal. My books are impossible to read straight through. In fact, every time I have to proofread them before sending them off to the publisher, I fall asleep repeatedly. You really don't need to read my books to get the idea of what they're like; you just need to know the general concept.
Over the past 10 years, my practice today has boiled down to simply retyping existing texts. I've thought about my practice in relation to Borges's Pierre Menard, but even Menard was more original than I am: he, independent of any knowledge of Don Quixote, reinvented Cervantes' masterpiece word for word. By contrast, I don't invent anything. I just keep rewriting the same book.
At the start of each semester, I ask my students to simply suspend their disbelief for the duration of the class and to fully buy into uncreative writing. I tell them that one good thing that can come out of the class is that they completely reject this way of working. At least their own conservative positions becomes fortified and accountable; they are able to claim that they have spent time with these attitudes for a prolonged period of time and quite frankly, they've found them to be a load of crap. Another fine result is that the uncreative writing exercises become yet another tool in their writing toolbox, upon which they will draw from for the rest of their careers. Of course, the very best result--and the unlikeliest one--is that they dedicate their life to uncreative writing.This sounds like a class I'd like to take, even though I think it's unlikely I would devote my life to uncreative writing. (I enjoy the other kind too much.) Nonetheless, I feel no hostility toward the concept of uncreative writing, and I like the idea of it as a tool in the toolbox -- I've always been attracted to collage, which is a sort of half-creative half-uncreative sort of art. I enjoy seemingly pointless, even arbitrary, allusions and structures. I like to see what happens to things ripped from their contexts and wrenched from their environments. It's not all I want in art, but it's certainly a type I enjoy.
The apocalypse of any art lies in the triumph of only one type over all the others -- the destruction of diversity. Manifestos of all sorts can be interesting because of their energy, but when they declare the death of everything other than themselves, I find them unappealing, because eclecticism is the antidote to sterility.
In a universe where Goldsmith's idea of uncreative art somehow managed to overwhelm every other type, it would turn the previous day's or week's or month's or year's uncreative art into a sort of creative art, because there would be nothing else to pillage, no other raw material -- the uncreative would be based on the uncreative, and the degrees of uncreativity would create a fractal explosion of discombobulated expression, a new language of unlimited nonsense.
Such an apocalypse is certainly not desirable, at least for a conservative like me who still enjoys the old ways of reading and writing, but I don't doubt it would be, for a few minutes at least, interesting to behold.
26 January 2007
The first expectations I had for Babel were the expectations created by the director's (Alejandro González Iñárritu) and writer's (Guillermo Arriaga) previous movies, Amores Perros and 21 Grams. I recognize that it's perhaps unfair to judge a work by its creator's previous works, but I can't help it -- watching Amores Perros was an extraordinary experience, and 21 Grams, though certainly inferior, was nonetheless interesting and powerful. Babel, too, is interesting and powerful at times, but much as 21 Grams was a better experience in the moment than on reflection, Babel dissipates after further thought.
While watching Babel, I was transfixed. Iñárritu has become a slicker filmmaker than he was with Amores Perros, and he sets up heart-stopping situations and paces them brilliantly, alternating slow and thoughtful moments with explosions of suspense, tension, and action. From long, slow close-ups on faces, allowing actors to suggest depths and contradictions of character, we move to sharp, jostled, ragged, frenetically-edited scenes of movement, confusion, panic, terror. Amores Perros contained all the same elements, but they were put together differently, more languidly, in a way that was somehow less manipulative, less determined, and, for me at least, while on the whole less gripping, vastly more satisfying.
Immediately after leaving the theatre, I began to wonder about the movie. I couldn't deny how much I had enjoyed it, how moved I had been in the moment of watching. Most movies, even ones that I like very much, do not have that effect on me, and I didn't want, and don't want, to discount it.
And yet I began to wonder: Did we really need the story of Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett's children and the nanny/maid who inadvertently gets them into so much trouble? It wasn't the ridiculous coincidence of it all that bothered me -- many of my favorite movies and plays and books would not exist without ridiculous coincidences in their plots -- but rather that the coincidences didn't add much to the movie. In King Lear, it's pretty hard to believe that all of the outcast characters would meet at the blasted heath during a storm, but I am perfectly happy to cut Shakespeare some slack in the realism department because that scene is so rich and beautiful, so who cares about realism? I fall back on realism and plausibility only when there's nothing else to grab, or when I feel the creator is being manipulative or arbitrary. The California/Mexico strand of the movie feels both manipulative and arbitrary, and as well acted and filmed as that section is, I couldn't escape the feeling that the movie would have been more effective without it.
A day later, I have begun to wonder other things. Do the stories add up to anything other than a plea for recognition of the commonalities between people? Oddly enough, while watching the film I never thought it was about commonalities, though now that theme seems obvious to me. Connections, certainly, I recognized those right off, but the connections between events sand characters seemed to be simply a convenient way for Iñárritu and Arriaga to link up some different stories, a way that they have used before and seem comfortable with. The movie was most compelling for me when it was showing people at extremes, showing people pushed toward impossible decisions in awful situations. It is in those moments that it becomes most emotionally devastating.
Now I think Iñárritu missed a great opportunity, that he should have pushed it all further somehow, dug deeper, and not settled for so much comfort, so much clarity. He takes characters to extremes only to make it all okay in the end. A better movie might have been the sequel -- how do the characters deal with life after their crises? What becomes of them now that they've reached the edge and climbed back? At least we could have been left with some doubt about circumstances and realities, some ambiguity, some space for possibility and raggedness and truth. We leave the movie knowing too much of what is what, and so the world gets shrunk to the size of a few stories, instead of the stories expanding to hint at the size of the world.
JPK Speculates
Jim, Meghan McCarron, and I went out for dinner beforehand so that we could be geeky and talk sci-fi. (Meghan and I had, earlier that day, caused a slight scene in the dining hall of the school where we work, because we were discussing some writer or another, book deals, sub-subgenres, conventions, etc. all in the space of about a minute and a half, because we share common reference points and can thus speak in what sounds to everyone else like a different dialect. We stopped when we realized everybody around us was silent and staring at us in bemused horror.) It was a marvelous dinner, and Meghan didn't insult New Hampshire, the state Jim and I have lived in for much of our lives, too vociferously, which disappointed us somewhat, because there is nothing a true New Hampshire-ite likes more than for somebody to proclaim the state impossible to live in -- it makes us lifers feel hardy.
Meghan then had to return to work for dorm duty, and I led Jim to the library, where about twenty people were waiting to hear him read and listen to him talk about whatever he was going to talk about. He began by reading his story "Unique Visitors", which proved a fun warm-up, and then he discussed The Singularity. This was not a discussion that people who have been familiar with the concept for a long time would have found to be a revelation -- although Jim's presentation style is so engaging that it would nevertheless be fun -- but was, instead, intended to let an audience know about some of the things that contemporary science fiction writers think about. It was a big hit, and the audience seemed both inspired and enthralled. Jim even got into an extended discussion of the Metaverse. As we say around here, great fun was had by all.
25 January 2007
Going Down River Road by Meja Mwangi
Baby should not have drunk coffee. He urinated all of it during the night and now the smell lay thick and throat-catching, overcoming even the perfume of his mother's bed across the room. In the bed Ben lay with the boy's mother curled in his large arms, warm and soft and fast asleep. But Ben was not asleep anymore. The pungent baby urine stink had awakened him long before his usual waking up time. He released the woman, turned and reached on the bedside table for a cigarette to combat the musty smell from the baby's bed. There were no cigarettes in the packet. He lit a half-smoked one from the ash-tray and lay smoking in the early morning gloom. Wini breathed soft and low by his side. Her nude body lay stretched out against his, her hand resting on the inside of his hairy thigh. She would be waking up soon to make his breakfast. He did not stir her. She had her own clockwork system that first turned her over once or twice before she opened her eyes to complain about the shortness of the past night. In another half hour he would be on his way to work.And so we are welcomed into the world of Meja Mwangi's Going Down River Road, first published in 1976. In Urban Obsessions, Urban Fears: The Postcolonial Kenyan Novel, J. Roger Kurtz says Mwangi's "urban novels remain the paradigmatic and in many ways most interesting examples of the urban genre from Kenya," and he calls Going Down River Road "the Nairobi novel par excellence".
I do not have the knowledge or background to judge how accurate Kurtz's perception of the novel's importance is, but it was recommended to me strongly enough that it become the object of a quest I and some friends went on when we were in Nairobi. A Kenyan had told us that the book is a fine example of how to write about a particular place and time, and that it evoked a lost Nairobi that was nonetheless familiar enough. The book was described with such passion that we became determined to find copies for ourselves. We went from one bookstore to another, but though they all had books by Mwangi (he's a prolific writer), they did not have Going Down River Road. The afternoon turned to evening and all the shops in the city center closed. We asked around, and someone told us that if anybody would have copies of the book, it would be a bookstore over in a mall in Westlands, and so we got into a taxi and sped off in search of the book -- and lo and behold, we found a pile of them. One for each of us.
It amuses and disturbs me to think that I bought Going Down River Road in a mall in one of the richer areas of Nairobi, because the book itself is so much about the traps and travails of utter poverty. It tells the story of Ben, who works at a construction job and spends most of the little bit of money he makes on alcohol and prostitutes, until one day his (ex-prostitute) girlfriend leaves him with her young son (known only as Baby) and never returns. Ben is often miserable, and just as often he is an observer of worse misery than his own. Becoming the caretaker for Baby does not turn him into some sort of saint -- he only barely takes care of the boy, though eventually he does pay his school fees and make sure he goes to school.
Ben is vehemently misogynistic, and after Wini abandons him, his misogyny becomes worse than it ever has been. He is not an appealing character, and yet Mwangi writes about him in such a way that we can feel some sympathy, and so we care about his fate. I found myself becoming frustrated with him in the way I would become frustrated with a friend whose opinions seemed ridiculous to me and whose actions even more so, but who nonetheless possessed enough elements of goodness to make me want to remain in his company for at least a short time. Mwangi avoids both cliche and sentimentality by making Ben such a difficult character to like, and yet there is enough to like -- an intelligence that gets fiercely beaten down but won't disappear completely -- that the book doesn't slide into frigid cynicism. Though the narrative verges on fetishizing the squalor and reveling in the misery, it never quite descends to that (in my eyes, at least) because Ben's intelligence does occasionally prevail, and he recognizes not just the pain he feels himself, but the pain of other people -- including pain he causes. He is incapable of escaping this world for himself, but he holds out hope that Baby might, and he tries as best he can to maintain the friendship most important to him so that he doesn't sink into a bleaker world of his own making, a world of only himself.
Going Down River Road is, indeed, a good example of a novel that is as much about its setting as its characters, because the characters are so inextricable from the setting, so entwined with it. The book grows repetitive at times, perhaps to indicate the borders of the life Ben has made for himself. The writing varies in quality from sometimes breezy and a bit thin to evocative in its descriptions of physical sensations -- at its best, this is a novel that assaults all the senses.
There is a political element to the book, too, as Ben watches people try to solve problems around him and address the political situation of Kenya. The book does not offer much hope here, as in this passage twenty pages from the end:
There are many things Ben knows that Bhai will never understand. Machore can never raise the necessary deposit to register as a candidate. And even if he could raise the money he would then have to find a consituency to contest and convince the constituents to vote for him. And who would listen to him? Only the labourers, and only at lunch time when there is nothing else to do. And he would still have a certain amount of trouble. The labourers are a tired hungry people. They don't believe in anybody or anything anymore. They do not even believe in the building anymore. Now they know. Just as a man will turn his back to you, a building gets completed and leaves you unoccupied. The hands just do not believe. If he bought them beer, Machore might convince the hands to listen to his promises. But they would still not vote if they got up with a terrible hangover or the weather became lousy on polling day or the queue got too long or something. To the hands it makes little difference: just another name in the newspapers, another face in the headlines, a voice on the radio, more promises...We are left to decide for ourselves what such feelings amount to. Ben, clearly, has not been helped by politicians, and his growth, such as it is, is from leave-me-alone individualism to a recognition of his need for something other than himself, even if everything else -- the government, Baby, his friends, his employers -- seems to be an impediment or a threat. The novel ends with a small moment of connection, a moment that shatters the profound and futile loneliness the city instills. The ambiguity of this moment, its inability to be summed up as a simple moral and its many implications within the context of the story, makes Going Down River Road so much more than a simple portrait of a particular time or group of people -- it is a scream against the waste that life allows.
22 January 2007
Seven Loves at the LBC
16 January 2007
Rain Taxi: The Auction
The auction ends this coming Sunday, January 21.
LBC Winter Selection, etc.
Things are likely to be slow here this week (as if they haven't been for the past few weeks...) because we're finishing up work on Best American Fantasy, which is shaping up to be a pretty durn interesting anthology, methinks, and one unlike any other out there. (Not that I'm biased or anything.)
Speaking of BAF, Jeff VanderMeer (who also recommends the LBC pick) has posted his thoughts on some of what we've encountered while reading. I'm still thinking about all this, trying to have something resembling a coherent thought after reading and discussing piles of stories, so I'm going to refrain from saying anything for right now other than that basically I concur with Jeff.
15 January 2007
"The Reasons for the Science Fiction Fad"
There has been some speculation about the reasons for the science-fiction fad. The Saturday Review of Literature's Harrison Smith has speculated about the relation of the "age of anxiety" to the "scientific fantasy story" as "a buffer against known and more conceivable terrors." Publishers' Weekly finds that the appeal of these stories lies "in their free flight of [imagination] . . . uninhibited by present reality, yet sometimes terrifyingly close to the advanced discoveries of modern science."
The reader who reads science fiction dispassionately is likely to be struck by how closely the human imagination is tied to reality, even when it deliberately sets out to violate it. Stanley Weinbaum's loonies and slinkers have been seen before. The shapes may be different, but his dream-beasts come startlingly close to what the human race has been running across, for a good many years, in its childish nightmares.
12 January 2007
No Better Time to Buy Books from Small Presses
Things sound particularly scary for McSweeney's, publishers of this year's Mumpsimus Award winner, Here They Come by Yannick Murphy:
For McSweeney's, the timing of AMS's filing could not have been worse: A large portion of the revenues from the publisher's new Dave Eggers novel, What is the What -- a percentage of which were to be donated to the Valentino Achak Deng Foundation to aid the Sudanese in America and the Sudan -- is now tied up in the bankruptcy. "We shipped 60,000 copies during that period and the proceeds are not here yet," said Horowitz.Among the many quirky and wondrous McSweeney's books, I'm still reading and enjoying -- loving, actually -- The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian, a very big book that I am reading very, very slowly.
Plenty of other publishers have been affected by the bankruptcy, too, including Soft Skull Press, publisher of Nick Mamatas's new novel, Under My Roof as well as H2O by Mark Schwartz, which I know Jeff VanderMeer liked, and the upcoming Jamestown by Matthew Sharpe, which back in March Richard Nash was already telling me I would love, and African Psycho by Alain Mabanckou, which looks like it's quite something (I've only had time to read the first couple pages so far). And one of the many books I've felt guilty for not having read yet, Choir Boy by Charlie Anders. And one of my particular favorites of the last few years, Oh Pure and Radiant Heart by Lydia Millet. And-- and-- and--
For a full list of publishers that will be affected in some way or another by the bankruptcy (along with links to their websites), see the PGW site. For news and info about the fallout, keep your eyes on Galleycat and Radio Free PGW.
Update (1/13): For anyone wondering if buying books through the publisher's website is a good idea, in general it is, even regardless of a distributor's bankruptcy, because buying direct can provide vastly more revenue and profits for the publisher. The problem at the moment, Richard Nash told me, is primarily for publishers who provided lots of stock in the fall. Current stock they're getting some money for on a weekly basis, so buying in any way is helpful, but if you can do it via the publisher, then do that.
11 January 2007
Coming to Birth by Marjorie Oludhe Macgoye
I was, I think, the only one of the Americans in the group who knew who she was -- I had begun reading her second novel, Coming to Birth just before I left for Kenya, but I hadn't had time to finish it, and it was a library book, so I just figured it was something I would eventually get back to on my return.
I grabbed a copy of the East African Education Publishers' edition of the book from the shelf, quickly paid for it, and brought it to Mrs. Macgoye, who seemed quite amused to find a bunch of writers randomly hanging out in downtown Nairobi, led there by Vassanji. I asked her if she would mind commemorating the moment for me by signing the book. "Oh," she said, "but I don't have my glasses!" I said I'm not an autograph hound of any sort, and rarely ask for books to be signed, so it didn't really matter to me if it were legible -- this just seemed like such an odd and wonderful moment that I wanted some sort of tangible proof of it. She chuckled and signed the book for me, in perfectly legible print, while I held it in my hands.
I decided not to finish reading Coming to Birth until I got back, though, because for reasons that continue to be somewhat mysterious to me, I didn't want to read any African literature while I was in Africa. Books were the only souvenirs I bought, and I bought a lot of them, but it felt somehow wrong, somehow self-conscious, somehow pretentious and precious to read them while there. (Or maybe I just wanted to save them as special objects and aids to memory.)
In any case, I have now read Coming to Birth, and I've also read the critical, biographical, and historical material included in the library copy I have, published in 2000 by The Feminist Press as part of their "Women Writing Africa" series (a series that includes another Macgoye novel, The Present Moment, as well as a favorite of mine, the sublime You Can't Get Lost in Cape Town by Zoe Wicomb). In a review for the Village Voice, Thomas McGonigle said the ancillary materials "bloated up" the books:
The publishers insist on [the novels'] political and social significance, treating them like textbook descriptions of the social and political life of Kenya. Africa is far too often seen as just a case study in hopelessness, and freighting the novels in this way threatens to sap the pleasure in reading these works.I haven't looked at The Present Moment yet, but I appreciated the afterword by J. Roger Kurtz for its detailed biography of Macgoye and its careful critical reading of the book. Kurtz is the author of Urban Obsessions, Urban Fears: The Postcolonial Kenyan Novel, a good survey that reveals how much more breadth and depth there is to fiction in Kenya than someone from outside the country, or even inside, might suspect. He knows his subject matter, and he does not try to pigeonhole Macgoye's work in the way McGonigle suggests. The historical essay by Jean Hay is short and basic, but it helps contextualize some of the events that might be otherwise difficult for most readers to learn about. Historical context is important to Coming to Birth, because it is a novel about both an ordinary woman and about Kenya over the course of nearly forty years. Indeed, how Macgoye uses historical details is one of the most interesting elements of the book. You don't need to know the history to appreciate the book on a first reading, but it certainly helps, particularly with one of the most important moments in the protagonist's life, which is confusing if you don't understand the clues that suggest the event it is part of.
The novel primarily tells the story of Paulina, a young Luo woman who is sent from her village to Nairobi to live with her husband, Martin. The novel follows her through the next few decades, as her relationship with Martin changes, as her conception of herself changes, and as Kenya gains independence from Britain and lives through Jomo Kenyatta's reign and then the first couple years of Moi. (The initial circumstances of the story, and some of the plot's progression, reminded me of Buchi Emecheta's The Joys of Motherhood, but Coming to Birth is less bleak and much less painfully ironic.)
Macgoye's technique is to use a generally free-floating point-of-view to move from characters' actions and thoughts to almost journalistic notes on major events. For instance, a conversation between Martin and an old friend ends:
Amina promised to call at the shop next day and by the end of the month it was all settled. She didn't exactly get anything out of it but she enjoyed pulling strings and getting to know other people's business.The Tom whose funeral is mentioned is Tom Mboya, an assassinated political leader, and he is only one of the actual people woven into the narrative. The mix of real people with fictional characters could have felt awkward or clumsy, but Macgoye gets away with it (at least for me) because Paulina is such an unprepossessing woman. She's no Forrest Gump, but she travels through various environments, and the people who are mentioned in passing in the story are people who seem natural to those environments -- of course if she is working in the home of a member of the new Kenyan parliament, she's going to encounter some actual politicians, and she's going to be aware of some of the major political events of the time. There is an off-handedness to the presentation of these "major moments" that gives them credibility -- they are among the things the characters are aware of while we are observing their thoughts.
By this time man had actually landed on the moon. The landing took place ten days after Tom's funeral and few Kenyans had any thoughts to spare for it, although President Nixon declared, in a record that was soon selling cheap in Nairobi's supermarkets, that eyes and hearts all over the world were directed to that spectacular feat. Perhaps he was already more nearly tuned into the launching pad than to minds and hearts. A lot of the world still saw the USA as a land of gadgetry where you could watch a president's assassination on TV without being able to do anything about it. A week later the papers were reporting the death of Mary Jo Kopechne in Edward Kennedy's car.
Though Coming to Birth is very much concerned with who does what when, such details are elements of the plot structure, and what meaning the book conveys comes more vividly through the characters' perceptions. Indeed, it is the changes in their perceptions, offered alongside the changes in Kenya's society, that provide the most sustained interest, and the most lasting insight.
Though I don't think biographical material is at all necessary to an appreciation of Coming to Birth, it is nonetheless interesting, because Macgoye has led a fascinating life. She was born in England, went to Kenya in 1954 to work for the Church Missionary Society, then six years later married a Luo medical officer, Daniel Oludhe Macgoye. Aside from four years working in Tanzania, she has lived in Kenya since first moving there. "Because of this background," Kurtz says, "Macgoye is an unusual, perhaps even unique, figure in the literature of Kenya and of Africa."
She certainly does not fit any of the typical categories of African writers. She is naturalized rather than native-born, so that while she is undoubtably Kenyan, and while her marriage into a Luo family gives her special insight into that community's experience and sensibility, Macgoye clearly occupies a position very different from that of Kenya's indigenous black writers. At the same time, while there is a large community of white Kenyans -- many of them former settlers or their descendants -- this category seems even less apt, if only because Macgoye has consistently rejected the privileges that go along with being white in a place like Kenya. Writers from this group, who produce what is referred to in Kenya as "expatriate literature," include Elspeth Huxley, whose work describes growing up in a settler community in central Kenya, and Isak Dinesen, the pseudonym for Karen Blixen, whose book about her experience as an unsuccessful coffee farmer outside of Nairobi was made into the popular film of the same name, Out of Africa. Literature of the type produced by Huxley and Blixen is written from an outsider's point of view, with outsiders' concerns in mind, and it displays a consciousness of being part of a European colonial diaspora. Macgoye, by contrast, writes from a fundamentally different point of view and with radically different ends in mind. As a result, she is a Kenyan writer, but sui generis.Macgoye began as a poet, and when she moved to Tanzania she found herself received somewhat differently than she had been in Kenya, for, as Kurtz writes, "In Kenya, Macgoye's poetry had at times been criticized for being too political; in this more radical climate it was deemed insufficiently committed to a progressive political agenda." Such a reception seems to me enviable -- too political for some, not political enough for others -- and it is one I expect Macgoye's novels have encountered as well. (Indeed, Kurtz does a good job in his afterword of showing Macgoye's uncomfortable relationship with the term "feminist" -- she writes books that can easily be seen as espousing a feminist viewpoint, but seems to desire no label for herself other than "writer".)
Macgoye is not always a graceful writer -- even Kurtz admits that dialogue is not one of her strengths -- but there are moments of tremendous grace in Coming to Birth, scenes of unsentimental and complex humanity, moments of lyricism. I'll end with a passage I particularly liked from the final chapter, where syntax and tense seem to struggle to reconcile memory and present life:
Paulina had spent years enough alone not to be worried by silence. She hugged her thoughts to herself. She was at home now. And at home, though news comes to you of meetings and proclamations, of trials and conflict and achievement, home does not change for that, Nairobi does not change for that, whisper, whisper, whisper, the hum of traffic and the undertones of bargaining, the quick breath of pushing carts and the slow breath of sleep, the unbroken round of terms, of seasons, of fashions, of celebrations. There is always something to do, always something to talk about, if you gave yourself time to learn, always something to depend on too and to live by.
08 January 2007
"For the Angels to Read"
There are some stories that don't translate into any other medium. They should stay in their books to surprise us, leaping from ambush. When she wrote Tell Me a Riddle, Tillie Olsen, like William Blake, covered paper with words "for the angels to read."
At the time, I was too young to know anything important about poor people, black people, women or history. But we enter into books as if into a conspiracy: for company, of course, and narrative, and romance; for advice on how to be decent and brave; for a slice of the strange, the shock of the Other, the witness not yet heard from, archaeologies forgotten, ignored or despised; and also for radiance and transcendence, that radioactive glow of genius in the dark. How dark it was, how dark. I could feel the darkness with my hands.... and as I journeyed upward after him, it seemed I heard a mourning: "Mama Mama you must help carry the world." The rise and fall of nations I saw. And the voice called again Alva Alva, and I flew into a world of light, multitudes singing, Free, free, I am go glad. Suddenly, we hear a different music.
05 January 2007
Some Thoughts on Kwani? LitFest from Beverley Nambozo
The performance poetry class began like a secondary school literature lesson. Thankfully, it escalated to a mature discourse. The students did not get the opportunity to perform before others but it was a good learning ground. There was genuine enthusiasm in the class and some students also had a chance to visit other workshops. With more training material and a stronger communication network, much more work can be covered for next year. The Heron Hotel: Stiff necked writers, editors and librarians concealing their huge breakfasts with manuscripts, note pads and journals. Hmph! Timid students milling around the Tin House editor, Farafina Magazine editor, Sable litmag editor and Kwani? editor wondering if their works had hopes of existing off their worn out looking manuscripts into the above mentioned finer established magazines. An orderly disorderliness marked the routine at the Heron Hotel. Meals, workshops, meals, bus trips, payments, checking in and checking out, busy lobby, intellectual interaction. In the dining area, the literary fanatics would ogle the damsels from other continents wondering if they should ask if she could share her manuscript with them or share her body with them. Biding their time, they waited and waited and waited…
Human beings are incapable of such equanimity. The wonders lay in the sand. Numerous. Each grain a potion to feed the egos of lustful tourists, idlers and children. The winders lie within the Muslim prayers echoing with comic earnestness. I was hypnotised. I was enchanted. I walked into Lamu at night blindfolded as the beach boys led me through the alleys whose stone walls veiled the secrets of the coastal girls. I held on. Trusting. Running. The blindfolds came off and danced before my eyes tempting me to dance with them. Standing in the ocean, the fluorescent algae swam around me daring me to join them in their aquatic frenzy. I plunged in washing away my urban burdens. Time, urgency and promptness are but luxuries in Lamu. With extended breakfasts, exaggerated desires to swim and sluggish exits from the hotels, Lamu is an island that detaches itself from international dialogue, reason and common sense which is why it is the most imperfect place for writers who need to exist in a real world. In Lamu, the best way to engage with the Island is to talk and watch. Talk to the island folk, talk to the squeaky voiced henna artists, talk to the red skinned tourists, talk to the orange and black haired beach boys, talk to the ocean, talk to the donkeys.. and when the conversations end…(which they never do) go back to your hole called home and write. I am wary of writers who go to far away islands to write. They are just show offs who are suffering from identity crisis and so need to pollute an island with ink from pens that never dry.
Beverley Nambozo is a Ugandan writer born in 1976. She has been a member of Uganda Women Writers' Association (Femrite) since 2000. She is currently working on a collection of erotic poetry and a novel, Two Lives. She has also written a few academic papers on gender, media and literature.
Beverley has worked as a radio show morning host of two years at 104.1 Power FM in Kampala. She also served as an Audience Relations Manager, conducting regular market surveys. Before that she was a teacher and dance instructor at Rainbow International School in Kampala. Since 1999, she has been in an active dance group that usually holds concerts in and around church and the community. Beverley has also been involved in several HIV/AIDS sensitization campaigns amongst youth in secondary schools and universities.
04 January 2007
Tillie Olsen and Donald M. Murray
And now I have discovered that Donald Murray has also died. There is, as far as I know, no link between Olsen and Murray, but I discovered them both at roughly the same time, and both had a profound influence on me when I was quite young.
The first writing workshop I ever attended was one for kids who were identified as "gifted and talented" in some area. I attended the workshop for two or three weeks at a college in Pennsylvania the summer between seventh and eighth grades, the first time I had been away from home for more than a couple nights. One of the textbooks we used was Murray's Write to Learn, a book I highlighted so much that entire pages seemed to have been painted bright yellow. It was the first time I'd ever encountered truly helpful writing advice. It seemed, to my seventh-grade self, to contain all The Secrets.
It was at the same workshop that I first read "I Stand Here Ironing" by Tillie Olsen. I thought it was boring. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. But there was something about the voice, something about the way the sentences fit together, that stuck in my memory. I went back to the story again and again, and eventually I got a copy of Tell Me a Riddle and read the rest of Olsen's stories. And then read them again. I wanted to figure out how she did it, how she created such rich and powerful voices. I still want to figure it out. Later, I read Silences -- read it so much, in fact, that my copy of it is now held together by a rubber band.
I haven't read anything by either Olsen or Murray in quite a while. I last paid close attention to both of them in my first few years of teaching, when "I Stand Here Ironing" was a story I taught every year (until I realized that I couldn't figure out a way to convey its power to my students, who inevitably thought it was what I had thought it was when I first read it: boring) and when I used Murray's The Craft of Revision for a few classes (until the publisher decided to replace the affordable original edition with a ridiculously overpriced textbook edition).
I never got to meet Tillie Olsen, but I met Donald Murray once. It was in an office at the University of New Hampshire. I was visiting a friend who knew Murray well, and as she and I were talking, he came into the office to drop something off for her. She introduced us, and I could barely speak. I had met far more famous people by that point, but it wasn't his fame that intimidated me -- it was that I had too much to thank him for. I still have the more-highlighted-than-not copy of Write to Learn that I virtually memorized that magical summer when it seemed like the Secrets of Writing had been dropped into my hands, and it remains one of my most cherished books.
Olsen and Murray both lived long lives, lives filled with experience and joy and great sadness. It's strange to begin a new year by thinking that neither one of them is out there anymore, but the gifts of insight and inspiration they gave to me and generations of other readers remain.
Answering Questions
In the meantime, I have a few things planned. First, I'm inviting some Africans to write about whatever they want here, because one thing I think we all need is more access to African writing, and since I've got this here weblog thingy and an audience, the least I can do is offer some of the writers I met the opportunity to meet this audience. We'll start things off tomorrow with a post by Beverley Nambozo.
Right now, though, I thought I'd give you some of the answers I have been offering to people who ask about the trip.
Q: How was Kenya?
A: Warm, Kenya. Well, Nairobi was warm but not exactly hot. Lamu, an island off the coast, was very hot. I was swimming in the Indian Ocean on Christmas Day.
Q: How long was the flight?
A: I spent about 18 hours in the air, plus time in various airports.
Q: Was there running water in your hotel?
A: Yes. I've been less comfortable staying in a village in France than I was in Kenya. Nairobi may be a bit dirty and not exactly safe at night, but it's a city. Lamu is quite different, being a small island, but it's an extraordinary place. What I got tired of there were the constant attention from people offering rides on donkeys or dhows, and the inescapable smell of donkey shit.
Q: Were there any cannibals? [Yes, I've been asked this question.]
A: No. I know it's hard to believe, but Africa is not a Tarzan movie.
Q: What did you eat?
A: I stopped being vegetarian a month or so before I left, because multiple people told me it would be difficult to get much purely vegetarian fare in Kenya. This was only partly true. I had friends who remained vegetarian there and had only a bit of trouble in Nairobi, but found the choices on Lamu pretty limited. I embraced my newfound carnivorousness wholeheartedly and sampled such things as goat and ostrich. The barbecued goat I had was similar to what I imagine a shoe might taste like, but the ostrich was a tender dark meat, and quite good. Mostly, though, I ate chicken, fish, vegetables, rice, and fruit. The fruit juices were particularly extraordinary.
Q: Did you get any writing done?
A: A little bit. I started a new story that I'm not sure I'll ever finish. Wrote a lot of journal entries.
Q: What was your best experience?
A: There were many great experiences, actually. The experience of hanging out with so many talented writers from all over the world was the greatest benefit of the trip. The best day, though, was when Njihia Mbitiru's father and mother drove me all around Nairobi and then to various towns and sites outside the city. They were determined to show me all the different levels and iterations of Kenyan society, and the stories they told of various places and people helped me get a sense of where I was in a way that nothing else during the trip did.
Q: Would you go back?
A: Given the opportunity, sure. I hope to visit Nairobi again, certainly, and there are lots of places throughout the continent I would like to see. There are people I very much hope to meet again, as well.
02 January 2007
"Exploding Wildly Outward"
"You know about changelings? I feel them all the time. As though we were all changelings and not exactly what we appear to be. That's what I was trying to sing to Nicola. There's so much missing inside where things ought not to be missing. As if something indefinable was taken out of us long long ago. Don't you feel that sometimes?"
I could have said I felt like that all the time. I could have said that's how everything seems to be. Most of the time. The ghastly emptiness that was always there. The feeling of having died and yet not really died, of how one had been subtracted from all that makes life a living experience. I could have said it was the fear inside me of a world whose changes would never include a change for the better. Like hearing in the middle of the night some phantom figure moving about hammering nails into all the things one had learnt to take for granted. Discovering how infinitely a human condition despair was. Hammering nails into a coffin in which the image of a whole historical notion lay with its arms crossed over its breast. Hammering nails into the dog-gnawed palm of Jezebel's hand. And the blood streaming eternally in the firmament, with not a single drop to save Faustus from the hour at hand. All this which was happening out there in the grim outside of our thoughts and emotions was finally approaching nearer and nearer to the unrefusing mortality of our blood. I could no more have convinced myself that it was nothing to do with us than have hypnotized myself into believing that every ache out there was my ache and every bayonet flashing in the sun my bayonet. I could have thrown up my hands in disbelief, parried all questions and happenings with Pilate's question: What is truth? These incredible situations which this impossible creation makes possible. But all this had nothing to do with the small lightning that flashed suddenly from the touch of Susan's hand on my index finger. And there was the thunder incredibly uncoiling and uncoiling down to the last tendril in the innermost cellular world. Matthew Arnold's still sad music seems to have ceased utterly, leaving us the sole inheritors of a silence-divining wasteland. Here was no pilgrim's progress, no mythical Sisyphus bound forever to push his rock, no Prometheus hurling defiance at Zeus even as he watches the vultures engorge themselves on his chained body. [...] We had I suppose talked and behaved ourselves into a mood whose shadow would always outgrow us. No longer could we register the temperature of the blood in ourselves. The reading of the instincts and archetypal triggers. We had so given ourselves up for lost that there was only a meaninglessness which perhaps cybernetics could trace on a graph. At the same time the thoughts that controlled our feelings were not those of where straightlines come from nor where they go. There was no centre either, no circumference, but as it were spiralling nebulae, galaxies beyond galaxies, exploding wildly outward, hurling away toward the incredible infinite that lay beyond the bounderies in which we had lingered.
01 January 2007
New Layout for the New Year
There are limits to what I can do without going in and editing the HTML code itself, which I'll probably do eventually, because there are some things from the previous layout that I like but that the template manager doesn't allow me to fiddle with (such as the sidebar font size differentiated from the post text size). The greatest benefit so far is that the three-and-a-half-year-old code, a Frankenstein monster built from an old template and adjusted by me using an ancient edition of Dreamweaver, is now gone and replaced with something much cleaner, which will make future edits easier and should make the page load more quickly and coherently. We'll see. A work in progress...
Happy new year everybody!
Juliet Ulman: The Outtake
MC: If you were a character from "The Muppets", which character would you want to be?
JU: This has changed at various points over the years. I remember having a real fondness for Gonzo, among others, but these days, I definitely dig the grumpy guys in the box seat -- Statler and Waldorf. I never liked Kermit.


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'You're Going Somewhere, Kid!' 6 Travel Activities
Hold on tight as you go on an educational journey with these activities all about travel and geography.Download All (6)
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Click on an activity in the set below to see more info.
Geography Travel GameView Full Activity
Next time you're headed out on the road with your fourth grader, try this alphabet-geography game that the whole family can play.
Make a Summer Fun CompassView Full Activity
Getting distance and direction across to fourth graders sure can be tricky! Get your child to practice this skill all summer long.
Build a Dream Vacation BoxView Full Activity
Build a decorated box and fill it with research that can help you get to your dream location someday!
Map CraftView Full Activity
Car cluttered with old maps now that you've adopted GPS technology? Upcycle them in this fun geography craft.
Map Your FoodView Full Activity
Help your kids map the "global footprint" of your family's grocery cart by investigating how far your food travels before landing on your dinner table.
Geography Game with Dr. Seuss!View Full Activity
Kids put their geography knowledge to the test in this balloon volley game inspired by the Dr. Seuss book "Oh the Places You'll Go".
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subset: commoncrawl


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Rio Rancho Art Association Membership Meeting
Wednesday Jan 9, 2013
Additional Dates:
St. Francis Episcopal Church
2903 Cabezon Blvd SE
Rio Rancho, NM 87124
Rio Rancho, NM 87124
Phone: 5053012009
Website: Click to Visit
More events at St. Francis Episcopal Church
Help promote cultural and educational enrichment in the surrounding community through opportunities for artists and the public to participate in fine art events and programs.
RRAA is a non-juried/all mediums regional art association and you need not be a resident of Rio Rancho to join. The first 30-40 minutes of the membership meeting consists of membership business and the second half is dedicated to a program of a guest speaker, a demo, art critique, forum, etc. The public is welcome to attend the meetings which are free of charge. To view the upcoming program information, go to: www.rioranchoartassociation.blogspot.com or www.rraausa.com or call at 505 301-2009.


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Freshkills Park
William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge
William Thompson Davis (1862-1945), whose family history on Staten Island dates back to the 17th century, was born in New Brighton. Davis was a renowned naturalist and entomologist, and a co-founder of the Natural Science Association of Staten Island. He was largely self-taught, but nonetheless made huge contributions to the study of Staten Island's community and natural history. His 1892 memoir Days Afield on Staten Island catalogues the island's plants and animals, while Staten Island and Its People, which he coauthored with Charles W. Leng (1859-1941) in 1930, is one of the greatest accounts of Staten Island history.
This property's boundaries are Victory Boulevard, Signs Road, Travis Avenue, and Arthur Kill Road. The surrounding community, which is now called Travis, used to be called Linoleumville. The nation's first linoleum factory, The American Linoleum Manufacturing Company, opened here in 1873 and employed 200 people by the end of its first decade of operation. A small town, complete with streets and a school, soon grew up around the factory. In 1928, the Sandura-Wild Corporation of Philadelphia purchased the plant, and two years later moved operations back to Pennsylvania, closing the factory here.
During the 1920s, the residents in the area voted to change the community's name to reflect its rich history. The new name was Travisville, for Colonel Jacob Travis who resided here before the Civil War. Soon the area became known simply as Travis.
In 1928, Davis and the Audubon Society successfully secured 52 acres here as a wildlife and bird sanctuary. It was the first such wildlife preserve in New York. The next year, the City acquired 157.62 acres of surrounding land from the Crystal Water Company, which had been bottling and selling the spring water that still bubbles throughout this property (although it is no longer safe to drink). In the mid-1950s, the park's acreage was expanded again so as to protect the surrounding marshland from being filled in and developed. In 1955, with a total of 260 acres, a nature education center was established here. Over the next several decades, the property grew in size. In 1982, when it was 375 acres, it was officially designated the William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge. A renovation of the walking trail was completed in 1987. Three quarters of a mile long, the trail was covered with over eight tons of wood chips and new trail markers were also installed.
Of the more than 1,700 parks in New York City, this wildlife refuge is the sixth largest, only 30 acres smaller than Central Park. Besides providing a green space for passive outdoor recreation, it also provides the surrounding community with water pollution filtration and a natural flood control system. Many birds make their homes in this park's marshes, including herons (Ardea), egrets (Egretta), ibis (Threskiornithinae), cormorants (Phalacrocorax), and gulls (Larus). On the ground and in the water, snapping turtles (Chelydra serpentina), fiddler crabs (Uca), and muskrats (Ondatra zibethica) can be seen throughout the site.
The United for Wildlife Rehabilitation and Education Center is located at the William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge. The center seeks "to care for sick, injured and orphaned wildlife and return them to the wild." Opened in 1999 by Staten Island resident Robert Zink, the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center is sponsored by Parks and serves as a holding facility for the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. Injured animals are brought to the facility, where they are nursed back to health and eventually returned to the wild. William T. Davis dedicated his life to providing Staten Islanders and visitors with an appreciation of Staten Island's natural habitat. The wildlife refuge that bears his name works toward the same end by preserving that habitat and offering visitors a glimpse of it.
Directions to Freshkills Park
- Freshkills Park Milestone
- NYC Parks Cuts Ribbon On New Springville Greenway At Freshkills Park
- Salt Marshes In New York City Parks - William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge
- Staten Island Day Trip Itineraries
- William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge


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Skip to Content
The UW offers several Graduate Certificates which may be completed while enrolled as a graduate student. Additional coursework is required, but in some cases, your program's coursework may count toward a certificate's requirements. Past students have enrolled in certificate programs such as Environmental Management, International Development Policy and Management, and Nonprofit Management.
View the complete list of certificates. Please note: some certificates are open to select disciplines and/or PhD students only.


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Upon arrival in the Auschwitz camp, victims were forced to hand over all their belongings. Inmates' belongings were routinely packed and shipped to Germany for distribution to civilians or use by German industry. The Auschwitz camp was liberated in January 1945. This Soviet military footage shows civilians and Soviet soldiers sifting through possessions of people deported to the Auschwitz killing center.
Copyright © United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, Washington, DC


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Order Gift Cards
Inquire here for private dining information:
Private Dining Inquiry
A classic tavern with a modern twist. We pride ourselves on being a hospitality venue with something for everyone!
All Day Menu Available: Monday–Sunday 11am–10pm (Kitchen open until 11:00pm on Friday & Saturday)
Weekend Brunch: Saturday & Sunday 10am–2:30pm (All Day Menu beginning at 3:00pm on Saturday & Sunday)


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When you repair your Canon DSLR, lens, point & shoot, flash, or camcorder at United Camera, you are making the same fantastic choice that over a million other people have since 1969. United Camera has the experience, facilities, equipment, and top notch technical team to take your toughest problem and get it solved fast! Our huge inventory of in-stock parts lets us complete your repair quickly even if you have an older unit that nobody else can fix. United Camera is so confident in our work that we offer you our 'Fixed Right the First Time or it's Free' guarantee. When you get your unit back the problem is fixed or you don't pay for it! We will even pick it up and fix it again at our cost. Does your local repair shop offer that? No matter what your problem is, United Camera has probably seen it and fixed it before. United Camera has even earned the prestigious international ISO 9001: 2008 accreditation given to companies with quality control processes verified by independent auditors. You can be confident that you are putting your device in the hands of someone who cares about it as much as you do. Choose your device from the list below and you are on your way to getting your unit back working like it did when it was new!
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It's hard to believe that I started this journey to get my Master's Degree three and a half years ago and it's about to end in less than two weeks! I have learned A LOT in the last 3.5 years — about marketing yes, but also about endurance, time management, writing, research, and myself. Some of these lessons I picked up early on, and others only more recently. But all of them are things I wish I had learned a bit sooner. So here it is. For all of you who are just getting started in the program (and even those of you who have been with it a little while), here are seven (because five was too few and ten was too many) things I wish I had known when I started the IMC program.
1. Time management takes on a whole new level in the IMC program. No matter how good you think you are at time management, you will find yourself hitting that submit button with only seconds to spare at least once per semester. At first I thought maybe it was just me. But then I started connecting with some of my classmates offline and found out I wasn't alone! Even the most dedicated and disciplined of classmates has had a week or two (or 9) when they have found themselves working feverishly on Monday night only to click that upload button at 11:54 p.m. I don't recommend doing this a lot (I personally have had way too many close calls), but cut yourself some slack if it happens every once in a while. And know that Murphy's Law will prevail and those assignments that you think won't be such a big deal will end up taking you twice as long to get done! So try and start early as often as you can to save yourself the stress.
2. Quality sources make all the difference! As I progressed through the program I learned from each professor which trade publications and sources they favored for quality information when doing research. Some of these I subscribed to early-on and used throughout the course, others I only discovered late in the game and I wish I had thought of them sooner. So, here are a few that I recommend you sign-up for now: AdAge, AdWeek, PR Week, DM News, Pew Research, and MarketingProfs. I also highly recommend you take advantage of the online library databases for accessing journals and competitor/industry information. They're free and they will give you information you will not find in a Google search. I'm sure there are more that classmates can recommend, but those are the gold standards that have helped me through many a discussion board post and weekly paper!
3. INTEGRATE is awesome. Seriously. You should go! At least once. I almost didn't go last year and changed my mind at the last minute and I'm so glad I did. Not only were there some great sessions, but it was the first chance I had to meet classmates and professors in person and see the WVU campus. It made me feel so much more connected to the program. I only wish I had gone sooner.
4. Empower yourself to be mobile. I think I was about 3 semesters into the program when I read a blog post by Kevin that talked about some of his favorite tools that helped him find success in the IMC program. It was the first time I had ever heard of Evernote. It has since become one of my favorite go-to programs for school, work and personal life. Using a tool like Evernote or Microsoft OneNote allows you to save your research, and even write your discussion board posts or papers in one place, but access it from any device. So whether you're in your office at your desk, sitting on the couch at home with your iPad, or even on your phone while waiting for your kids to finish their piano lessons, you can sneak in a little work and pick right back where you left off at the next opportune moment.
5. Every professor is different. It's true. No matter how consistent the program is (and trust me, it's pretty darn consistent compared to others I know about), or how standardized the syllabus, each professor is going to communicate differently and grade differently. They are human, after all! Yet for some reason I've seen a lot of classmates get very upset by this fact. Were your undergrad professors all the same? I highly doubt it. I know mine weren't. You will have favorites and some that kick-your-butt! And there may not be consensus on this by your classmates…so just because your friend said they loved Professor so-and-so doesn't mean you will. All I can say is accept this fact now and it will save you a lot of disappointment and frustration down the road. For my part (and I have nothing to gain by saying this since I'm pretty much done with the program), I found all of my professors to be reasonable and fair.
6. Connect with classmates outside of Blackboard. It wasn't until very recently that I got invited to a Facebook Group for IMC students, that was created by a classmate (and is not officially affiliated with the IMC program). This has been one of the best discoveries of the last 3 years because it has allowed me to "meet" people I've never had class with, ask for suggestions, tips and recommendations relating to certain classes, share ideas, commiserate about our lack of a life on Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights, and just in general talk…you know that thing you did in the hallways when you were in undergrad? The stories that got shared around the lunch table or in the lobby of your dorm room? That stuff is missing when you're in an online program. But thanks to social media there are ways to connect with colleagues outside of class. Whether it's through Facebook, LinkedIn or even email, I highly recommend you get connected to other students outside of the Blackboard classroom! In fact if you're interested in joining the Facebook group let me know!
7. At some point you will want to quit. OK, maybe this won't happen to everyone, but I know that a good majority of the people I've met through the program have contemplated it at least once before they finish. And some even do quit…for a semester or two. Whether your personal life changes, your work life gets too hectic, or you just plain need a break, at some point you may find yourself wondering – "Can I really keep doing this?" The answer is YES! Yes, you can, even if you have to take a break — don't give up! You will be so glad when you cross that finish line.


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Powerful computer & fast network connection are recommended to play 1080p video smoothly
Legend has it that magical items wielding mysterious powers and treasures are buried inside the Dungeons of ancient
dynasties. Alibaba is one of many who dream of capturing a dungeon. One day, he meets a young boy named Aladdin, and together they set off!
Get the latest updates on show information, news, and more.


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Pope John Paul II visits Boston in 1979
Pope John Paul II visits Boston in 1979
Sept. 28, 1979: Audio engineers Jay Arthur and Robert Dutczak checked the lead control board for the papal visit sound system. Capron Lighting and Sound Co. of Needham installed a sound system designed and built by Bolt Beranek & Newman. Two speaker towers 40 feet high were set up beside the pavilion, three more clusters of speakers were located 600 feet from the pavilion on 30-foot towers, and loudspeakers were located in trees at seven other places on the Common.
Oct. 1, 1979: Cardinal Humberto S. Mederios and first lady Rosalyn Carter greeted Pope John Paul II on his arrival at Logan Airport. The cardinal and the president's wife entered the plane, greeted the pontiff inside, and then followed him down the ramp and along a red carpet receiving line. When the pope stepped from the green and white Aer Lingus 747 jetliner, named St. Patrick, that brought the papal party from Ireland, he became the first reigning pontiff ever to visit Boston. (It is rare to find a color print in our files from this time. This proved it was a very big news event — page one printed in color.)
Oct. 1, 1979 : Pope John Paul II passed people lined up on Boylston Street in a black limousine with a sunroof, through which he stood for his welcoming procession through the city. Wearing a red hat as protection against the sporadic rainfall, the pope smiled broadly and waved continuously at the thousands lining the streets.
Oct. 1, 1979: Two-year-old Maria Renda looked out a window below a banner from the Passacantilli family welcoming Pope John Paul II to the North End.
Oct. 1, 1979: Pope John Paul II's motorcade drove through the North End where almost 60,000 people lined Hanover Street. Confetti fell amid choruses of "Vive Il Papa" and "Vive Centanni," the colloquial expression for "may you reign 100 years."
Oct. 1, 1979: In a showing of the city's racial unrest, protests occurred during the papal visit. Representative Mel King addressed about 1,800 demonstrators protesting in front of the Holy Cross Cathedral over what they said was racism and violence in the city. This was a response to the shooting of black football player Darryl Williams on Sept. 28, 1979, at a football game in Charlestown. A prayer for the recovery of Darryl Williams was offered at the Mass on the Common.
Oct. 1, 1979: Pope John Paul II blessed the children waiting outside as he entered the Cathedral of the Holy Cross.
Oct. 1, 1979: Greeted by nearly 2,000 priests in a cheering and foot-stomping welcome at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Pope John Paul II first made his way to the side altar of St.Joseph, to a waiting prie-dieu covered with a white silken scarf and fell to his knees for a full minute, his head bowed in prayer. He then joined the more than 30 cardinals and bishops assembled on the high altar for Mass.
Oct. 1, 1979: Anthony Lanzara, 3, of Nashua, N.H., held a banner as he waited for a chance to see Pope John Paul II from his spot on Boston Common.
Oct. 1, 1979: An estimated crowd of 400,000 listened to Pope John Paul II say Mass on the Boston Common. The Mass, the first celebrated by a pope in Boston, lasted an hour and a half. It started 20 minutes late, just as the downpour began, lasting throughout the service. The soaked crowd all stayed to hear the pope's message as he told them: "I want to meet you and tell you all — men and women of all creeds and ethnic origins, children and youth, fathers and mothers, the sick and the elderly — that God loves you; that He has given you a dignity as human beings that is beyond compare."
Oct. 1,1979: Pope John Paul II administered communion during the rain's heaviest downfall. Several hundred priests were dispatched into the crowd to distribute communion. The paper-thin hosts, wafers of unleavened bread, were in danger of being melted by the pouring rain. People voluntarily held their umbrellas over the priests to protect the chalices filled with the communion bread as the pope was shielded.
Oct. 1, 1979: Boston Common was a quagmire after the Papal Mass was over and the crowd had left. The mud coated people's shoes and socks and blankets, many of which were left behind for workers to dispose of.


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Would you like to be in London one minute and in New York the next one? With Webcam Saver, you can. Watch the pigeons at Trafalgar Square, quickly switch to Venice Beach and then see where a busy I-80 highway takes you. You don't have to buy airplane tickets to travel the world. Simply download this screensaver and the world will come to your. Free download of Webcam Saver 1.4.2, size 447.40 Kb.
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text:
In 2001 Ghostface Killah reunited with his partner in rhyme Raekwon to bring fans Bulletproof Wallets, which continued Ghost's winning streak of delivering front to back classic material. Filled with the usual Ghost slang and bass heavy production, Bulletproof Wallets dropped not long after Supreme Clientele without skipping a beat. The fun Ghost & Rae are having on this record is beyond apparent. Bulletproof Wallets is almost like a party album, hit singles and street bangers. "Never Be the Same Again" (with Carl Thomas & Raekwon) and "Ghost Showers" play alongside "Maxine" and "The Forrest" all working off each other's energy. Other stand outs like "Walking through the Darkness," "The Hilton" all bang through the speakers and continue to add to Ghost's undeniable catalog. On some groundbreaking production from The RZA, Alchemist, Carlos "6 July" Broady and Mathmatics, Ghostface absolutely shines and the chemistry between Rae and Ghost is always incredible!
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Stuchell to be named to Punxsy Sports Hall of Fame
PUNXSUTAWNEY — Saturday, Punxsutawney Area High School's Athletic Department will host its Punxsutawney Sports Hall of Fame Banquet and Induction Ceremony at the Punxsutawney Area High School.
In anticipation of the event, The Spirit will feature the biography of one member of the Hall of Fame Class of 2013 each day.
Today's featured athlete is John (Jack) Stuchell.
Stuchell is a 1953 graduate, and he lettered two years in both football and track and field.
He was an All-District guard and played in the All-Star game in DuBois.
Stuchell was a school record holder in the discus (138-7) for many years and placed first at districts in discus.
He played and lettered four years of college football and track and field at Southwestern College in Kansas.
Stuchell received All-Conference honors and made the All-Methodist Team in 1956.
He threw discus in college against four-time Olympic gold medalist Al Oerter.
Stuchell coached Punxsutawney football for four years, including coaching an undefeated junior high team that went undefeated in its senior year, as well.
He was a school administrator in Brookville for 20 years.


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Wednesday, January 2, 2008
My Greatest Genealogical Find Ever
The post got me to thinking about what one or two things I would designate as my greatest finds in terms of my family's history. This was easy for me since it is a small booklet that launched me on this journey about 12 years ago.
The item: The Genealogy of David Putman and His Descendants, by G.W. Putman, 1916. A pdf copy can be found here.
Growing up, I had heard "rumors" of this magical book that contained my great-grandfather John Ralph Austin's genealogy going all the way back to the 1600s. I always imagined some large, fancy tome bound in leather with gold letters, perhaps a brass clasp. Too Harry Potter, right? Well imagine my initial disappointment when in 1995 my mother presented to me a small 6 x 4" pamphlet of about 60 pages. Cue: Peggy Lee singing "Is That All There Is?"
Well, good things do come in small packages. It turns out that this tiny book was one of only 100 copies published in 1916 by George W. Putman, who was my 2nd cousin 5 times removed. The entire research process for G.W. began when a distant cousin had asked for information on the family's Putman branch of ancestors.
Since there was not much information available, G.W. began a journey not unlike my own, but with much more rudimentary tools. As he states in his Prefatory Letter on pages 5 and 6, he began by writing to the Post Masters of various small towns in upstate New York asking if they had any residents with the last name Putman and, if so, to kindly send him the names and addresses. I'd like to see someone try to do that nowadays! Many far-flung relatives responded to G.W. and sent details as to ancestors and descendants.
But since this research format is really not using documented first sources, I knew I would have my work cut out for me. However it did provide me with a framework to use. Over the years I have found glaring errors, some of which tend to be duplicated by other Putman researchers.
This is one of the items of my family history that I treasure the most. And it is safely tucked away now that I have copies available online to use when performing my research.
6 comments:
- Randy Seaver said...
Hi cousin,
I too descend from 1) Jan and Cornelia (Bradt) Pootman through:
2) David Janse Putman (b. 1684 Schenectady Co NY) and Helena Beekman
3) Victor Putman (b. 1721 Monmouth Co NJ) and Margaret Wies
4) Peter Putman (b. 1760 Sussex Co NJ) and Sarah Kinnan
5) John Putman (b. 1785 Sussex Co NJ) and Sarah Martin
6) Eliza Putman (b 1820 Steuben Co NY) and Alexander Soveriegn
and so on. Our connection is probably at the first generation - Jan and Cornelia, no?
What other resources have you found that have good information? I found some documented research on this family in "ANCESTORS AND DESCENDANTS of JOHANNES PUTMAN of HOLLAND," Researched, written, and typed single handedly by WARREN T. PUTMAN of Rio Linda, California. I can't vouch for the research, but it looks like a good job. I have PDFs of the first 8 chapters if you want it. Send me an email at email@example.com.
Cheers -- Randy
- January 2, 2008 at 4:33 PM
Your mother certainly found you a 'winner' there in this book, didn't she. A genealogist could not ask for anything more. How exciting!
Happy 2008 and keep the snow on YOUR side of the Lake - okay? Cheryl
- January 2, 2008 at 6:17 PM
- Thomas MacEntee said...
Thanks Cheryl - snow here isn't that bad but COLD! And wind chills in the negative numbers. But hope is on the way - our forecast is for 52 degrees on Sunday!!! Now I can't decide whether to wear the speedo or the thong bathing suit . . .
- January 2, 2008 at 6:24 PM
- Thomas MacEntee said...
I figured there had to be at least one of the "usual suspects" genea-bloggers that was related to me.
Our common ancestor is David Janse Putman's father, Jan Putman (b. 1645 in Holland) who was killed in the Schenectady Massacre on 2/9/1689.
Here I am:
1) Jan Putman and Cornelia Andriese Bradt
2) Victor Putman (b. 1680 in Schenectady) and Grietje Pieterse Mabie
3) Johannes V. Putman (b. 1711 in Schenectady) and Annatje Van Antwerpen
4) David Johannes Putman (b. 1747 in Schenectady) and Anna Abrahamse Van Antwerpen
5) William Dence (b. 1778 in Fonda, New York) and Hannah Arriantje Putman
6) David Dence (b. 1802 in Watertown, New York) and Margaret De Wandelaer
7) Ira H. Austin (b. 1831 in Denmark, New York) and Hannah Dence
8) William Dence Austin (b. 1863 in Boonville, New York) and Catherine O'Keefe)
9) John Ralph Austin (b. 1896 in Lowville, New York) and Therese McGinnes - my great-grandparents.
Your David Janse Putman b. 1684 is one that I have as a David Cornelius Putman - I will need to check that.
- January 2, 2008 at 6:36 PM
- Craig Manson said...
Wow--now that's a great discovery! And look what your blogging about it has led to! Thanks, Thomas.
- January 3, 2008 at 8:29 AM
Hello! I am a descendent of Jan and Cornelia. My Great Grandmother, Ethel Austin compiled a vast amount of research on the Putman Family tree. Please contact me if you are interested in seeing it. Lois Hawk
- March 6, 2008 at 3:24 PM


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Mary Ann MacNamara
Robert Henri
Doors open again on Friday, August 17
Due to renovations, the CMA will be closed to the public from Monday, July 23, through Thursday, August 16. Museum staff will be working throughout this time and will be available on weekdays via phone or email. The CMA will reopen for visitors on Friday, August 17, with our newly installed collection galleries and two featured exhibitions, Something's Happening: The Big Art of Katie Pell and Hiroshi Sugimoto: Time Exposed. See you then!
Robert Henri
Tyrone Geter
Daryl Trivieri
George Clair Tooker, Jr.
Pat Steir
John Steuart Curry
Mary Ann "Toots" Zynsky
Henry Mandell
Dale Chihuly
Renovations are Underway The CMA is building more galleries in which to show our collection. To protect the art from construction, the upstairs collection galleries are closed through late 2018. We will remain open throughout the entire process.Learn More
Visitors to the CMA will discover a world-class collection of Renaissance and Baroque art, a major gift to Columbia from the Samuel H. Kress Foundation. Among the Kress masterworks is a tender and beautiful Nativity by the legendary Florentine artist, Botticelli. This Nativity is the only fresco by the artist in the United States and the only one in a location outside of Italy.
And, there is the CMA's spectacular View of the Seine by the immortal French impressionist, Claude Monet, the centerpiece of the museum's later European art. It is a treasure for our audience to come upon, as is the CMA's rich display of decorative arts that includes silver, stained glass and an impressive array of Chinese export porcelain. Indeed, the CMA's holdings in Asian art—from snuff bottles to elegant ceramic camels—is a breathtaking collection unto itself.
In American art, the CMA enjoys extensive holdings in all media. In sculpture, there is Frederic Remington's classic and still-thrilling Bronco Buster; in painting, Charles Willson Peale's sanguine portrait of our first President, George Washington; in furniture, Duncan Phyfe's elegant sofa; and on paper, Edward Hopper's mysterious and evocative Night Shadows. These works and more serve as prelude to the CMA's growing collection of contemporary art that now features Tom Wesselman, Andy Warhol, Chuck Close, and Sally Mann among many others.
Learn More
"Chandeliers are marvels of drop-dead showiness, the jewelry of architecture."
-Peter York, British author and broadcaster
"Why fit in when you were born to stand out?"
-Dr. Seuss
If the mention of a pianoforte conjures up images from works by Jane Austen and the Brontës, you're not alone. While today we typically view pianos as a luxury item, in the 19th century they were vitally important as sources of entertainment as well as status symbols.Learn More
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Most viewers feel separated from the works sitting on the wall; it is hard to see how a painting from six centuries past could have any relevance to our modern society. But the fact of the matter is these seemingly ancient works retain historical and cultural relevance and can tell us a lot about our modern selves.Learn More
The Columbia Museum of Art recently acquired the suite of Mao Zedong prints by Andy Warhol. After a trip to the art conservator they are finally here! Chief Curator, Will South, describes the process of conservation these prints underwent before making their way to our door.Watch the Video
Anne and Jack Postic discuss their favorite piece at the CMA.Learn More
Chief curator, Will South, elaborates on the history of 19th century African American landscape painter, Robert S. Duncanson.Learn More


text:
…David Barton managed to get a lot of things wrong in his new Thomas Jefferson book.
My favorite quote: "But to claim, as Mr. Barton does, that Jefferson was 'unpretentious, living and acting as the common person for whom he had sacrificed so much' lays it on a little thick." That's a masterpiece of understatement. When it came to matters of personal expenditures, Jefferson's profligacy knew no bounds.
And then there's the whole religion thing:
Jefferson's religious beliefs are central to Mr. Barton's thesis, in the service of which straw men are consumed in bonfires. No Jefferson scholar to my knowledge has ever concluded that Jefferson was an "atheist," as Mr. Barton suggests. That Jefferson might have been what we would think of as a deist or even a Unitarian, as many historians believe, Mr. Barton also disputes. Jefferson was "pro-Christian and pro-Jesus," he says, although he concedes that the president did have a few qualms about "specific Christian doctrines." The doctrines Jefferson rejected—the divinity of Christ, the Resurrection, the Trinity—are what place him in the camp of the deists and Unitarians in the first place. It was Jefferson's difficulty with these doctrines that persuaded his close friends Benjamin Rush and Joseph Priestley that Jefferson's skepticism went beyond anything even these latitudinarian believers could endorse.
In other words, the "specific Christian doctrines" Jefferson doubted were the very doctrines that were specifically Christian.
Hat tip: American Creation.


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ICBA's Plan for Prosperity offers targeted and common-sense regulatory relief that will allow community banks to do what they do best—help their communities thrive.
Washington, D.C. (PRWEB) February 26, 2013
The Independent Community Bankers of America® (ICBA) today launched the Plan for Prosperity, its policy platform for the 113th Congress that will promote a regulatory environment in which community banks and thrifts can lend more robustly to local small businesses and residents—helping their communities to grow and thrive. As a flexible set of legislative priorities designed to support congressional advancement, the Plan for Prosperity offers detailed policies to ease excessive, redundant and costly regulations and help community banks dedicate more of their resources to promoting economic growth.
"By relieving the nation's community banks and the communities they serve from crippling regulatory burdens, Congress would be making a historic step in rebuilding America's economy one community at time," ICBA President and CEO Camden R. Fine said. "ICBA's Plan for Prosperity offers targeted and common-sense regulatory relief that will allow community banks to do what they do best—help their communities thrive. Reducing unnecessary and overly burdensome regulations is a smart and cost-free way to boost economic activity and job growth across the nation."
ICBA's multi-pronged Plan for Prosperity is designed to reduce excessive regulation while supporting greater regulatory accountability. The Plan for Prosperity is not a single bill, but a flexible, living document that can be quickly adopted as legislation. It is designed to maximize bipartisan support in Congress and adaptability to the rapidly changing congressional and regulatory environments. Among its provisions, the Plan for Prosperity would:
- Exempt community banks from certain mortgage reforms to support the housing recovery
- Reduce annual privacy notice redundancies to cut paperwork
- Ease municipal advisor registration burdens to help serve local governments
- Strengthen the industry's voice with an assistant Treasury secretary for community banks
- Reform the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau to ensure more balanced regulation
- Improve accountability in bank exams with a workable appeals process
- Offer relief from accounting and auditing expenses for publicly traded institutions
- Support mutual banks with new charter and dividend rules
- Require rigorous and quantitative justification of new rules
- Support additional capital for small bank holding companies
- Cut the red tape in small-business lending
- Facilitate capital formation by reforming Subchapter S corporation regulations and extending the net-operating-loss carry-back
The steady piling on of more and more regulations over many decades has become a growing threat to community banks and the communities they serve. Regulation has a disproportionate cost to community banks because they lack the scale and resources to absorb the associated compliance costs. The ICBA Plan for Prosperity helps provide appropriate tiering of regulation and relief for smaller, low-risk institutions so they can better serve their communities.
For more information about community banks and the regulatory burdens they face, visit http://www.icba.org.
About ICBA
The Independent Community Bankers of America®, the nation's voice for nearly 7,000 community banks of all sizes and charter types, is dedicated exclusively to representing the interests of the community banking industry and its membership through effective advocacy, best-in-class education and high-quality products and services. For more information, visit http://www.icba.org.
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